


All The Magic I Have Known

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: Resolution19 [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Author is blatantly projecting, Cas has separation anxiety, Compact Shelving, Established Relationship, M/M, Museum AU, Museum Director!Cas, Museum Worker Castiel (Supernatural), Shelving is Magic, but not magical shelving, dean is a good boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 17:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18554590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: "I am going to cry," Cas informed Dean seriously. "This is too much, and I am going to cry now."Dean pulled his boyfriend into a hug. "C'mon, babe, it'll be alright."Cas reflexively wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, but didn't blink, staring over Dean's shoulder at the massive wall of gleaming compact shelving behind him. "No, it won't, Dean. Two years of my life's work is sitting there in all its beautiful, powder-coated-steel glory, and in a week it's going to be full of unlabeled collections shoved haphazardly onto whichever shelf is nearest." He buried his face in Dean's shoulder, his voice breaking. "It's going to be adisaster."





	All The Magic I Have Known

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Museum AU  
> Source: Me? Yeah, no, there’s not really a prompt for this one... (sorry for cheating)  
> Title: "Magic" by Shel Silverstein
> 
> Originally posted April 21, 2019 on [Tumblr](http://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/184355545867/all-the-magic-i-have-known-april-21-2019)

"I am going to cry," Cas informed Dean seriously. "This is too much, and I am going to cry now."

Dean pulled his boyfriend into a hug. "C'mon, babe, it'll be alright."

Cas reflexively wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, but didn't blink, staring over Dean's shoulder at the massive wall of gleaming compact shelving behind him. "No, it won't, Dean. Two years of my life's work is sitting there in all its beautiful, powder-coated-steel glory, and in a week it's going to be full of unlabeled collections shoved haphazardly onto whichever shelf is nearest." He buried his face in Dean's shoulder, his voice breaking. "It's going to be a _disaster_."

"Shhh," Dean told him, amusement evident in his voice. He ran his hand soothingly over Cas's hair. "It won't be that bad."

"Will too," Cas mumbled petulantly into Dean's shoulder.

"Alright," Dean said firmly, pulling Cas back from him and holding his shoulders. Cas's eyes were red, but his face was dry. "Cas. Where are we standing right now?"

Cas looked confused by the question. "The Collections Storage Room," he said slowly, gesturing vaguely around him. The large room was L-shaped, adjoining a hallway. Two-thirds of it was full of tightly packed shelving units covered in carefully-taped plastic sheeting to protect the contents from concrete dust. The remaining third of the room was full of brand-new mobile shelving units.

"Yes. And where is the Collections Storage Room?"

Cas squinted at Dean. "In the addition on the back of the museum?"

"And who's responsible for the addition?" Cas was starting to get an idea of where this line of questioning was going.

"Well, the county--" Dean glared at Cas. "I got the county to put it up," he admitted.

"Yes. _You_ did. By yourself, uphill both ways." Dean sighed. "Cas, everyone at this museum knows how much you put into it, how much it means to you. No one, _no one_ ," he repeated firmly, "is going to ruin your shelving."

"But--" Cas protested.

" _No one_ ," Dean insisted.

Cas's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I just don't want it to be a mess," he said quietly.

"It won't be," Dean said confidently. "Here." He let go of Cas's shoulders and grabbed one of his hands, leading him towards the shelving. He grabbed one of the handles at random and began turning it, opening up an aisle in the middle of the five carriages. He pulled Cas about halfway down the twenty-four-foot aisle and pointed at a shelf three feet above their heads. "There. That one."

"What about it?"

"What's going on it?" Dean asked.

Cas squinted around them at the forest of vertical supports and empty shelves, then glanced up. "Row M8, Section D, Shelf 4," he muttered to himself. "Women's textiles," he told Dean. "Specifically, boxed textiles, probably aprons. Maybe some petticoats. Why?"

Dean grinned and didn't answer. He just tugged on Cas's hand and pulled him back out of the shelving before opening up another aisle and pointing at a different shelf. "What about that one?"

Cas's answer was faster this time. "Document boxes. Archives from three local VFW chapters."

Dean pulled him down another aisle. Over and over he asked Cas about the future contents of each shelf. "Rolled maps." "Stacked plates sandwiched with sheets of ethafoam." "World War I uniforms." "World War II uniforms." "Yes, Dean, that one's uniforms as well." "Birth and death records from Waterford Township. Well, the unsealed ones." "We call it our archaeological collection, but it's really just very heavy boxes of rocks." With each question, Cas's responses became more animated and Dean's grin grew.

Finally, Cas pulled Dean to a halt outside the shelving, breathless with laughter. "Alright, Dean. What's your point, that I know the shelving?" Cas rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

"Yeah, Cas, that you know the shelving. And not the just the specs, the-- How much shelving is there?"

"Approximately six thousand cubic feet, depending on whether you count the aisle," Cas replied without hesitation.

"Right. _Six thousand_ cubic feet of shelving, and you know every inch. I know that, you know that, your volunteers know that." Dean softened his voice. "Everyone wants this to succeed, and they know they need you at the helm to do this. Nothing will fall apart while you're gone."

"Will you stand guard?" Cas asked seriously.

"Nah, but Kevin'll keep an eye on it," Dean reassured him with a lopsided grin. "And it's not like you're going to Timbuktu. It's a conference in Des Moines; you'll be back Friday. That's not nearly long enough for _everything_ to be screwed up."

"You'd be surprised," Cas muttered, eyeing the shelving suspiciously.

"C'mon," Dean told him, slinging an arm over his shoulders and steering him towards the door. "We've indulged your paranoia enough for one night. Let's get over to Bobby's before we've missed the whole game."

Cas allowed himself to be led, but he twisted his head around to keep an eye on the shelving until it disappeared behind the corner.

The door locked behind them with a click. Ten minutes later, the motion sensitive lights blinked off, and the room was dark.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I would like to apologize to all volunteers. You are wonderful and marvelous and absolutely necessary. My own volunteers are also lovely and beautiful and I love them all dearly. Cas and I just have a little bit of irrational anxiety about leaving our shelving so soon after delivery.
> 
> I work at a county historical society very much like the one Cas directs. Our beautiful shelving was installed in the last week and we haven't even had a chance to wipe down the shelves yet. I have a conference this week and I am, again, irrationally anxious about what will happen while I'm gone.
> 
> Other staff and volunteers at my museum have likened this to the birth of a baby. You plan for years, you have about nine months to get ready, delivery is delayed, you get the room set up, you keep updating everyone on what's going on, you post pictures nonstop, and you make up long lists of do's and don't's the first time you're separated.
> 
> I'm sure there's nothing to be afraid of. Our Kevin will keep an eye on things, and everything will be fine. But I thought I'd share a bit of what's been going on with me behind the scenes. Thanks for reading!


End file.
